Cyanide
by BlitheTrinket
Summary: Cyanide is injured, Slenderman is angry, and Masky is...well, Masky. (Not Slenderman X OC!) (CreepyPasta Mansion/Slender Mansion universe.) (OC STORY)


The wind crashed and rain poured down as I hurried through the forest, my legs carrying me as fast as they could manage to the dimly lit mansion in front of me. Racing up the steps and to the door, my fists gripped the metal handles tightly, tugging on them and swinging the doors open hastily. I slammed the massive doors behind me, the booming noise echoing throughout the huge mansion. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips and I swung my old, decaying rucksack onto the floor next to the rows of shoes that Slender had perfectly lined up along the wall. I lifted my aching arm, running a hand through my short wavy hair, my gaze not moving from the floor.

My head twitched upwards as I heard familiar footsteps against the marble flooring, the 'clack' sound of expensive shoes approaching her. Rolling my eyes, I stood up straight as Slenderman came to a stop in front of me; towering over my tiny frame.

"You're late." He spoke with no emotion, his voice monotonous and almost dull sounding. I glanced up at him, irritation written clearly on my pale face.

"Yeah, well, strip clubs can get a bit hectic." I huffed in response to his blunt remark. He cocked his head ever so slightly, as if he was questioning the validity of my sentence. I flinched as he raised his hand quickly, fearing he would hit me, quickly relaxing once I felt his large hand softly wiping away some glitter from my forehead. I felt the heat rise up her throat, being sure to tilt my head down as a tiny sprinkling of crimson dusted my cheeks.

"Please, for your own safety, be sure to be home on time next week." Slender dropped his hand back down to his side, waiting for my response. I scowled slighlty as I lifted my head to look up at the massive being.

"It's not as easy as you - and everyone else in this damn house- seem to think. I may still have my human appearance, but strippers are sneaky and are most certainly up in everyone else's business. They are always watching when I'm out back, constantly questioning why I'm hidden away in the shadows," My voice grew quiet as I ducked my head down in shame. "And why I never put on much of a show on the pole..."

Slenderman growled at me, ducking down to look me in the face. He roughly placed his giant hand onto my shoulder, a tight grip present.

"You've been pole dancing? And... _stripping?_ For those filthy, low-life humans?" The anger was evident in his voice and it made me shake internally. I solemnly nodded in response, disappointing him yet again. I felt tears well up in my eyes, but I held them back and tried to control my shaking voice.

"Yes sir. That's why I'm late. And why I was late last week, and the week before that." I bit my chapped lip, "They haven't had spaces for me to tend the bar lately, so I've had to dance instead. I'm usually up on tables, but the rare occasion when I'm assigned a pole to dance on...the whole mission is ten times harder. I can't see the boss' office from the pole; only from the bar or the changing rooms. I do have some more evidence to show you, despite the increasing difficulty of this particular case." I motioned to my previously discarded rucksack, offering it to Slenderman.

He simply nodded in understanding, and quickly opened it, his sharp, clawed hands grasping at some pictures his proxy had managed to snap of the filthy human that was trying to track him down. He shuffled them in his hands, staring down at them and absorbing every ounce of colour on the images in front of him.

She had done well, very well.

Despite his lack of facial features, it was easy to sense him snarling at the disgusting man photographed. He was short, and overweight, and had 'creep' written all over him. He fit the description of a shady. back-street strip club owner perfectly.

I stood there silently, clasping my hands in front of me like a child would. I quickly glanced over at the clock, noting the time mentally.

 _'1:15 a.m...I'm exhausted. I need to sleep.'_ I thought to myself, supressing a yawn. I didn't want to anger Slender, I could tell that he was already out for blood. Slenderman stood straight in front of me once again, still holding the pictures in his hands.

"These are good. You have done well. Are you injured, or hurt in any way?" He questioned me, prodding lightly at my bruised arms. I bit down on my lip, debating in what the outcome would be if I told him what had happened.

"Take off your jacket. I need to check that you are in top condition. We can't have any broken proxies, now can we?" He chuckled to himself as she removed my -almost tattered- army green jacket, gritting my teeth at the pain I felt in my shoulder. He noticed this; much to my dismay, and began to press on my sore shoulder in search for the injury.

"What happened here? You're covered in bruises..." His voice became low and almost like a growl, anger rising deep in his throat. I shrunk back, almost backing away from him in shame.

"Ivy, you'd better tell me how this happened..." He growled at me menacingly, shaking me to my core. He used my real name.

He was pissed.

"It was just a drunk guy at the strip club tonight. I was up on a table, and he decided to get a little handsy. I obviously told him to back off; it's a club rule that you don't touch the dancers. But he was persistent. He started to get angry, pulling me from the table and onto the floor...where I landed on my shoulder." I tried to awkwardly laugh it off, as if I wasn't in any pain. Slenderman stood quickly, gripped my forearm and pulled me along down the hallway with him.

"Slender, are you taking me to the medical bay? I'll be fine, I swear-" I was cut off by an enraged Slenderman.

"No, you are not fine. You were assaulted at that shithole of a strip club, by a filthy scumbag of a man. You'll be doing missions in the forest from now on." He stated gruffly, slamming open the door to the medical bay and swiftly sitting me down on a bed. I hung my head low, feeling like a failure.

"Masky, get in here!" Slenderman called down the hallway, grunting as he paced in and out of the room. Masky was at the door within seconds, like an obedient puppy- a role he often played. He turned his head towards me as I sat on the sterile and hard bed, clutching my shoulder as it throbbed. He looked at me, and then at Slenderman. He repeated this once more, before asking:

"What happened boss? Is there an emergency?" His voice is soft and almost inaudible. He is a strange fellow, but considerate and polite nonetheless; not to mention efficient and capable. Masky was one of Slenderman's first proxies, along with Hoodie, and he had helped me become worthy of my job working as Slenderman's proxy. He taught me the ins and outs of this complicated, and at most times dangerous, job and he made sure that I was always doing the right thing at the right time.

"Cyanide is injured. I would heal her myself, but I have some...business to attend to, shall we say." Slenderman turned away as he said this and my heart dropped as I realised where he was going. Masky nodded in understanding and began to approach me.

"It's just my shoulder," I whispered, "I'm ok, I promise." Masky tilted his head for a second, and then getsured for me to show him which shoulder was injured. I stood upand turned around, the large, dark bruise making it obvious which shoulder needed healing.

Slenderman swiftly left, his shoulders hunched over in anger. It felt like I was standing there for an eternity, as Masky placed bandages and gels to my injury. I felt confident enough to speak once I felt the bandage being secured under my arm.

"It happened at a strip club...I've been on a mission for the boss there for a few weeks now. The owner of the establishment was a real slime-ball. He had a whole corkboard in his office dedicated to finding Slenderman and 'exposing him'. It was real weird, considering that he had another corkboard dedicated to pictures of the dancers he had taken in secret during their dances. I'm glad to be out of there." My speech gradually got quieter and quiter, fearing that Masky wasn't even listening to me.

"How did it happen? Your injury?" He questioned me calmly. I felt the heat flood back into my face again. Great, now two people are going to know I was pole dancing for weeks.

"I was, uh... up on the table. Dancing...as a dancer.." He remained silent as my voice trailed off into nothing. He patted my back gently to let me know that he was done. I turned around to be met with his expressionless black and white mask.

"He's going to kill him." He stated simply. I nodded in agreement, feelings horrible that I had caused Slenderman this kind of stress. I had no doubt that he would be harsh on me for a while after this. Masky placed a soft hand on my good shoulder.

"Slenderman has a soft spot for all his proxies, but he has a really funny way of showing it sometimes." I could feel him smiling behind his mask. I gave a tiny smile in return, lowering my head as I left the medical bay.

"Yeah, tell me about it."


End file.
